Drip...
Splurt!
Blood splashed across the ground like breaking waves.
Saber and Kenshin had each left their mark on the other.
But--
Cough cough...
Collapsing to the ground, Kenshin understood the result of this exchange.
He'd lost.
That Excalibur had been a deliberate lure, designed to bait him into close range.
"Assassin."
"Your swordsmanship and footwork are truly remarkable. You've even improved during this short war."
"But you have a fatal flaw."
Sprawled on the ground, Kenshin could just barely turn his head to see Saber half-kneeling, clutching her own wound.
A flaw?
He dimly recalled hearing that word four or five years ago, on the mountain, when his master had said the same thing during training.
He hadn't expected to hear it again from an enemy.
Saber's emerald eyes trembled with a subtle emotion.
Pity.
"You've walked the path of the manslayer -- an unbroken road of killing."
"Having taken so many lives, you still somehow retain a sense of 'goodness' within you. That in itself is astonishing."
An assassin whose heart had neither broken nor twisted. A genuine rarity.
"In a certain country, they had a word for people like you."
"Shishi. A 'man of high purpose willing to sacrifice himself.'"
Grasping certain fragments of knowledge, Kenshin mustered enough breath to acknowledge what she meant.
"You are the very embodiment of that concept."
"In every exchange, I could feel your devastating kill-or-be-killed technique."
"In pure swordsmanship and pure speed, you surpass me. In a close-quarters contest, you should hold every advantage."
"And yet... you lost."
"Not because of a gap in weapons. Not because of a gap in skill."
Swaying, bloodstained, Saber rose to her feet regardless. Her figure was battered but unyielding.
"You lost to the part of yourself that has no will to live!"
The final sentence struck Kenshin like a physical blow. His pupils contracted sharply.
'Kenshin... just think about surviving...'
'You must live.'
Even breathing had become labored. His thoughts spiraled backward, into a distant past.
He had left the mountain after learning only a portion of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, descending against his master's explicit wishes.
What awaited him was an era of upheaval. A world drenched in blood. A web of betrayal and deception.
In that world, what mattered was overwhelming strength and an unflinching heart.
The will to survive?
He'd discarded that the moment he became an executioner.
If he'd feared death, he'd have been killed long ago.
It was precisely that "coldness" -- the willingness to trade his life for his enemy's -- that had kept him alive all these years.
And now, for the first time, someone had told him that his defeat stemmed from exactly that fearlessness.
"Every strike aimed to kill."
"Every move designed to deny your opponent any breathing room."
Saber continued.
"You never dodge an attack that would only cause a minor wound."
"When faced with an unavoidable blow, your answer is always to trade injuries."
"As long as exchanging wounds leads to the enemy's death, you never consider the consequences."
"After killing so many, you've stopped cherishing even your own life!"
She laid bare what had happened in their final exchange.
Against a swordsman of godlike speed who held no regard for his own survival, Saber's only option had been to stake everything on outliving him.
And she'd succeeded.
She'd shifted just enough to turn Kenshin's fatal stroke into a grievous wound.
But Kenshin had made no such effort. He hadn't tried to dodge her blade at all, taking the full force of her counter.
"You should treasure yourself more."
"Once you're dead, nothing else matters."
A measure of respect colored her words. Saber addressed the bleeding, fallen assassin with quiet gravity.
"May I know your name?"
A final question to the Servant whose mana was already beginning to dissipate.
They'd formed a bond through combat, yet she'd never learned his real identity.
"Himura... Ken... shin!"
"I'll remember your name."
Cough!
Hearing Saber's reply, Kenshin slowly closed his eyes.
Perhaps this was his first true encounter with "death." His thoughts drifted, strange and formless.
'So this is what dying feels like.'
He'd genuinely never considered what would happen if he died.
A reckless boy who'd charged down the mountain on raw conviction, only to be met with the cold, dark reality of his era.
And when he'd finally found someone to walk alongside him in that darkness, even that had been destroyed.
Lured here by a "summons," and now meeting his end in a foreign land.
Saber. Archer. Berserker. Rider. Lancer. Caster.
And all those colorful Masters. He'd witnessed many extraordinary things.
But the life of Himura Battousai ended here.
Saber was right.
He carried a fundamental flaw.
The will to live.
That was something he'd abandoned long ago.
Not being able to see his master one last time... that was his only lingering regret.
"I'm sorry..."
"I couldn't... save... you."
Hearing Assassin's whispered words, laced with sorrow, Saber watched his body dissolve into motes of light, ascending skyward. Even the bloodstains vanished.
The only thing left on the ground was the scabbard she'd lost so long ago.
Assassin -- Himura Kenshin -- eliminated.
"Hey! Rider, Assassin lost!"
Waver blurted out to Lelouch.
"Tch. Not the outcome I wanted."
"Saber's will to survive was simply stronger."
Lelouch clicked his tongue. He'd hoped otherwise.
Technically, the alliance should have left him glad. But strategy rarely aligned with alliances.
"Please remain calm, my King."
"The loss of a Servant is inconsequential."
"My son Kirei will complete his mission."
Standing beside them, Risei bowed and spoke with conviction.
"True. As long as Kirei kills Emiya Kiritsugu, the result of Saber versus Assassin is irrelevant."
"But... things don't seem to be going smoothly over there either?"
Switching between familiar feeds, they turned to the other battle.
BANG BANG BANG!!!
"You came well-prepared. Is that your answer?"
Eyeing the gunman aiming at him from a distance, Kirei spoke.
His right leg had been shot through, rendering it useless. He could only move by hopping on one foot, bracing with his arms. A severe disadvantage.
Kiritsugu, meanwhile, wiped blood from his lip and gasped for breath. He wasn't in great shape either.
But he hadn't come here to die.
He'd brought every tool at his disposal against Kotomine Kirei.
The situation favored him. He'd put a bullet through the priest's right leg, crippling his mobility.
From here, as long as he denied Kirei any chance to close the gap, his firearms would grind the man down.
'Regular rounds: twelve remaining.'
'Grenades: two.'
'That's enough!'
Emiya Kiritsugu had already formulated the kill.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]
PS: Remember the "Living While Seeking Death (E)" trait listed in Kenshin's Servant stats? That setting practically guaranteed he'd lose in close-quarters duels against top-tier Servants.
At this stage of his life, Kenshin possesses no "will to survive" beyond killing his target. So Saber, having recognized this through their shared battles, baited him into a pure exchange of blows -- the one scenario where his flaw would be fatal.
Kenshin lost because he was still in his "immature" period. Next time? That's a different story.